


For better, For worse

by emma_and_orlando



Series: Some day, One day series [5]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Happy ending dw babies, Hot Space Era, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Neglect, Self-Medication, marriage trouble, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando
Summary: Brian crumbles under the pressure of his depression, music, parenthood and medication. Roger has to find the strength to support Brian in his lowest moments.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Series: Some day, One day series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1401757
Comments: 39
Kudos: 98
Collections: Maylor Week





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The year we are in is 1982. Roger just gave birth to George. They have been on a little break from recording to have the kid and go back into the studio for hot space.
> 
> Trigger warnings: clinical depression, self medication, neglect and overall arguing. 
> 
> Atlas: 1974  
> Johanna: 1975  
> Mercury: 1975  
> Mae: 1978  
> Zae: 1979  
> George: 1982  
> Saralina: 1983  
> ?: January 1985  
> Finale Baby: 1988

"Jo, no. What did I say about being careful?"

"Sorry papa." Johanna grumbles when the baby is picked up from her lap after she had tried to pry open George's softly closed eyes. 

Roger sighs, taking the slumbering child into his own arms and resting him in the crook of his elbow.

The kids are all gathered around him on the large cushioned couch. Cuddling Roger carefully and looking over his shoulder to stare at their newest sibling, who had _almost_ opened his eyes for the first time in their presence.

"You have to listen to what Papa says, or you won't get to hold the baby." 

Brian is standing over Roger, leaning against the back of the couch. He bends forward and kisses his forehead after scolding a very unamused Johanna. 

Roger tilts his head to smile up at him.

The baby has barely been in the world for 36 hours, Roger is still sore and swollen in most places. Therefor propped up by a number of pillows and blankets. 

With all the excitement, the five oldest have been more than a handful. 

Atlas had been very eager to assist with the baby at first, same as Johanna. Asking how to change a diaper and what kind of games the baby would like to play. The two of them had been rather disappointed to find out that baby's aren't as actively fun as their toddler siblings. 

Roger could hardly blame them. The baby now is nothing more than a sleepy drooler. 

His little assistants became little trouble makers very quickly, trying to provoke the baby into doing something interesting. 

Zae and Mae are too young to notice much of a difference in the household, except for the fact that their fathers have been a little less available over the past couple of days. The division of attention is battled with many tears and tantrums. Roger had forgotten their talent for being so difficult. 

Mercury, the sweetheart, hadn't slept since Roger had started having contractions nearly three days ago. He was too sick with worry over his fathers wellbeing. 

At least he is dozing now with his head resting on Johannas shoulder. 

"Do you need to go lay down alone for a bit?" Brian asks in a low voice, ignoring the groans and protests coming from all directions. 

Roger shakes his head once. The baby is heavy in his arms and the pain below the waist is starting to throb again. Signaling he needs more painkillers soon.

"I'm okay, thank you."

"Okay." Brian kisses him again, this time on the lips. "You let me know if you need anything?"

"Some Tylenol maybe?" 

"Of course." They seal a kiss that lasts slightly longer than the ones before, Brians hands cupping Rogers cheeks, and his lips are warm and dry as they linger against Rogers. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Brian pulls away slowly, before making his way into the kitchen to find Roger his painkillers.

Just then, Atlas shuffles closer to Rogers side and looks up at him with big blue eyes. 

Roger bites back a tired smile. "Yes?"

"Can I hold the baby? Please?" 

"That depends, sweetheart. Will you behave well?" He cocks up his eyebrow. 

Atlas pouts. Roger still finds it funny to watch a mini-version of Brian make such childish expressions. Though over the years, more of Rogers features have appeared onto his face. 

"I always behave, papa! I promise."

He is tugging on Rogers shirt. Frankly, Roger is too tired to come with a valid argument again the suggestion.

The baby is fast asleep against his chest. Drooling on his arm.

Roger gives into Atlas' pleas almost instantly. 

"Support the head, like so." Roger shows him, positioning the baby carefully into Atlas' arms while Johanna watches in envy. Mercury is still sleeping, while the toddlers had grown bored and slid off the couch to play with their stuffed animals on the floor. Not straying far.

"That's it. Now keep in mind, he's very fragile. So no sudden movements and if he becomes too heavy, give him to me." 

"I know." Atlas mutters.

Roger kisses his temple, before draping an arm over Johannas shoulder and pull her in for a kiss as well. 

Her eyes are slightly watery when Roger pulls away, though she keeps her lips sealed. 

"When Atlas is done, you can try holding him again, okay?" Roger whispers, careful that Brian won't hear it where he is rummaging around in the kitchen.

Johanna- eyes lightening up, nods eagerly. She leans over and gives Roger a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, papa. I promise I won't do anything bad ever again." 

"I'm sure you won't." Brian snorts. Roger jumps when the Alpha is suddenly standing right behind him, holding out his hands to Roger with in his palm two pill and in his other hand holds a glass of orange juice. 

Roger, heart still racing slightly, takes the pills with a grateful smile. "Have some faith in my daughter, will you?"

They exchange eye contact, Brians eyes glisten in amusement. He opens his mouth to reply when suddenly the phone rings on the wall.

On the first ring, Brian sprints towards the phone, trying to silence it before it wakes their baby and Mercury up.

Roger, after swallowing the pain killers and two sips of his juice, twists around as much as his tender body allows him to. Watching Brian to find out who is trying to reach them. 

"Uh... Yes this is him." Is the first thing Brian says.

Roger can only hear quiet murmurs coming from the receiver.

He stays quiet. Even when Brian starts frowning deeply by the information passed onto him, fiddling with the curling cord hanging from the wall. 

"Hm. Yes I understand. I do." He rubs his chin, then his tired eyes. "Yes that works for me. That's fine."

Roger is about to ask what's going on, but Atlas nudges his shoulder and gestures at the baby with his chin. 

"Hm?"

"He's getting fussy."

Roger quickly takes George back into his own arms. He hasn't woken up yet, but he is squirming and grunting with his eyes firmly closed. Roger holds him close and shushes him, swaying him in his arms to keep him calm. 

He misses out on the last part of Brians conversation. The familiar click of the phone being put back into the wall makes Roger look up at Brian, twisting his neck. 

"What's wrong?" He asks, whispering and voice slightly strained from swaying with his aching arms. 

"Nothing, Nothing." Brians hair bounces as he shakes his head. "Just that my psychiatrist quit, I'm getting redirected."

"I'm sorry." Roger says out of sympathy. Knowing Brian quite liked the guy. 

"It's no biggie. I'm starting dinner, you feel like eating anything yet?" 

Brian stands in the kitchen, a smile reaching his tired eyes. Roger has nothing to worry about other than the smell coming from his baby's diaper.

"Not really, but I need to have some anyway." 

Roger usually loses his appetite for a few days after giving birth, but he could hardly stop eating.

Brian, the gentleman, reaches for the cupboard and grabs the frying pan. 

"I guess I'll just have to make your favorite."

"I guess." Roger chuckles. 

~~~

"Hi."

"Hey you."

Brian comes shuffling into the room, stretching his arms out above his head with a yawn. Because they're married, Roger doesn't have to hide staring at the exposed patch of skin where his shirt rides up. 

"How's little George?" 

Just to be a bitch, Roger rolls over onto Brians side of the bed. Splaying his arms and legs wide like a starfish. 

Brian chuckles down at him, stripping out of his shirt and socks in the mean time.

"Doing okay, he wasn't too fussy anymore after you fed him."

"Good." Roger smiles with his eyes closed. 

When Brian comes crawling onto the mattress, he finds his way right on top of Roger, just as the Omega had hoped. Though the Alpha carefully leans onto his elbows and knees to keep his weight off of Rogers healing body.

Warm lips brush over his. Roger can't help but smile even wider. 

"Excited to go back into the studio tomorrow?" 

Roger nods. Slowly blinking his eyes open to look at his husband hovering over him. "Yeah. I have all these ideas, y'know. Not sure if you guys will like it..."

"I might like it." Brian smiles, though he doesn't make any promises. "I'll make sure you'll get a song on there. Okay?" 

Roger appreciates the honesty. And the dark shadows under Brians honey eyes.

"Okay."

"As long as I can have a say in the song."

"Shut up." Roger laughs quietly, silencing Brian with another warm kiss. Having never felt more loved and accomplished ever in his life before.

A new year. A new child. A new album. 

~~~

Two weeks into the studio, everything has already gone to shit.

John and Brian are at each others throats. The smallest things sets them off into a frenzy. Half the time Freddie cannot be bothered showing up sober, therefor he wasn't as successful a mediator as before. 

Rogers world is slowly crumbling apart from under his feet at the very foundation. His bandmates and best friends.

"... Still needs some backing vocals and a good drum sound, but it will sound really good once we set our teeth into it." 

Just as Brian puts down his guitar and the music sheets, John carefully shakes his head.

"Brian. I don't think it fits the albums vision."

"What vision?" Brian asks, spreading his arms out wide. "Don't the songs we come up with make up the vision?"

Johns eyes roll all the way back into his skull. Roger momentarily fears he's having a seizure.

But John quickly reopens his eyes to glower at Brian from across the coffee table with his arms crossed over his chest and bass. 

"We talked about this, Bri. C'mon." 

Roger is hit with a deja vu every time they get into the studio. The same arguments are repeated again and again like a broken record echoing through his aching head.

Freddie, unlike the rest of the band, is standing by the mixing desk. Butt resting on the edge of the fragile tech— much to Macks chagrin. 

Roger couldn't tell if Freddie was drunk _per se_ , but he did look miserable. Dark circles under his eyes and thin.

Jim hasn't been around much. Roger has gotten a card after George was born, but Paul Prenter was now by Freddie's side, a vague shadow of the caretaker Jim had always been. 

"Deacks..." The singer chooses his words carefully with a cigarette dangling from his lips. "If Brian can't think of any songs to fit—"

"Who says I can't think of them. Perhaps I just don't _want_ bloody disco songs on a Queen record." 

John is pinching the bridge of his nose now, before gesturing wildly at Brian, while looking straight at Freddie. As if they're discussing their estranged teenage son. "See?! This is what I was talking about."

"What were you talking about?" 

Brians asks in a thin and edged voice with betrayal as he too solely addresses Freddie. 

Freddie clears his throat awkwardly whilst fiddling with his fingers. If he isn't already drunk, Roger knows that he now wants to be. 

"Nothing darling, nothing important."

"Freddie warned me that you wouldn't be open to trying new things, even though we should all have an equal voice in Queen. We did and still do Rock 'n roll. Why not be open to trying new things? Things Freddie and I have been yearning to try." John shifts his knees until his body is completely facing Brian and his guitar. "Guess what, we _do_ want to give Queen a chance to bloom in different genres. Another one Bites the dust was a hit. We can do so much more."

"Another one bites the dust was a coincidence." 

The words have barely been uttered out of Brians mouth, before Roger, who had been too tired and high on painkillers to interact much, pulls him up to his feet by his arm. Forcing the taller man into the empty break room to get away from the band meeting and the staff having to awkwardly pretend they weren't hearing all of the fighting.

"What is wrong with you?" Roger starts as soon as the door shuts closed. "We're a band damnit. We are 4 people, if they want some boring dance music, we can make a couple of boring dance songs. They'll get over it soon enough." 

Brian is not meeting his eyes. Frantically looking around the room with bright red cheeks.

"That's what you think is happening? They're going through a silly phase?" His nostrils flare as he speaks. Roger doesn't care about the anger radiating off of Brian, it had been simmering ever since they had come back into the studio a couple of weeks ago and the couple had been smacked in the face with Queens new vision. "Because John has rejected all my song suggestions thus far. All of them."

"He wants you to write a disco song. Less heavy guitar and-"

Roger did not expect Brian to push him backwards. It doesn't harm Roger, but gives Brian enough space to walk past him towards the exit and catch him off guard.

"Hey! What the fuck-"

"We'll see how you'll talk when they replace you with those bloody drum loops."

Roger walks after him. Still physically not in shape to keep up. "Brian, stop. Don't you walk away from me like that."

The Alpha had made it halfway out of the backdoor.

Dead in tracks, Brian stops. He sighs, shoulders deflating, before he turns back towards his mate.

His face is no different from a scowling Johanna, who is _seven_. Roger pushes the image away to keep up the stern expression he was initially going for by crossing his arms. 

"So? You're gonna just leave me alone with the disco freaks?"

Brian stops glaring instantly and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I need to cool down. Have an appointment with the new psychiatrist anyway."

Roger steps closer. Brian doesn't move.

The Omega leans heavily against the doorpost. Barely leaving an inch between their bodies. 

"That's not for another hour, Bri."

Brian is the first to give in, leaning forward to plant a brief kiss onto Rogers forehead.

"I'm walking. Say sorry to Freddie for me, but I can't do this today."

Roger accepts the next kiss he receives on the lips as a goodbye with a heavy sigh. Watching Brian take off into the cold without his coat.

~~~

The second the front door creaks open and Brian walks into the house, Roger comes out of the kitchen to greet him. Baby in the crook of his arm, Zae on his hip. 

"Hi." They share a short kiss "How did it go?"

Brians eyes are not meeting his. Roger frowns. Bouncing Zae closer to himself whilst leaning towards Brian. 

"Tell me." He says in a quiet, but firm voice. 

Brian fiddles with the little plastic bag between his fingers. Picking at the thin wasteful material. 

"I- he, my new psychiatrist believes I'll feel better if I decide to start with medication."

Rogers eyes widen, only then taking note of the subtle rattling of pills in the small bottles through the transparent bag in Brians hands. Blue eyes shift rapidly between Brian and the bag. 

"Pills?" Brian nods. "What kind of pills? Why?" Roger hisses. "What's going on?"

Just as Roger starts to sound more angry, Brian looks more tired and less inclined to explain. With a sigh he takes Zae from Roger and into his arms. He pulls him flush against his chest, to comfort himself more than the sleepy toddler. 

As Brian begins to walk towards the nursery, Roger follows hot on his heels. Eyeing the medication dangling on Brians wrist.

"Talk to me." 

"It's nothing, absolutely nothing." Brian abruptly turns around as soon as they're at the top of the stairs. 

Roger comes to a halt. Letting Brian cup his face with the hand he doesn't use to support Zae's bottom. Brians face softens when he focuses on his mate. Finally meeting his eye.

"Hey, don't look so worried. I'm okay." The insistence in Brians voice almost, _almost_ overpowers the ebbing sadness in Brians deep hazel eyes. 

"Rog," He says. "I'm okay."

Just like Brian, Roger forces a smile on his face. Holding the baby close to his heart. 

"We're okay."

~~~

It takes a while for Roger to notice things aren't as _okay_ as he had told himself all those weeks ago. 

"Where is Brian?" Is the first thing John says when Roger lumbers into the studio.

He drops his bag onto the floor and takes off his jacket to hang over the hook by the door. Crystal hands him a lit cigarette before he flops down next to John on the couch. 

"Couldn't get out of bed this morning."

John scoffs, no words needed to express his disdain for Brians lack of enthusiasm for Hot Space. Roger in return refrains jumping to Brians defenses. Half to preserve the peace, half because he is too tired to be arsed. 

"Need a coffee?" 

Roger looks up at Crystal who is currently observing Rogers third yawn since coming into the building. 

"Please."

"On it."

Just as Crystal leaves for the coffeeshop around the block, Freddie comes waltzing in with a frown set between his eyebrows. 

"You look quite chipper this morning." Roger snorts. Subconsciously finding himself sinking further into the soft cushions of the sofa, while he watches Freddie strip off his coat.

"Well," He gets a generous flash of teeth in his direction, but the smile doesn't reach Freddie's eyes. "Today we are laying down some backing tracks and we start on the new— wait."

He stops talking mid sentence. Looking around the room and into the recording box with a deeper frown, before turning back to the two men sitting on the couch like two lazy sacks of potatoes. 

"Where is Brian?"

"Didn't feel well enough to come in." Roger explains for the second time. 

Freddie, much to Rogers surprise, doesn't scold or que up the dramatics. He finds himself instead sinking into Macks chair with a locked jaw. Sighing deeply. "We can hardly make our music if a fourth of our band is missing." 

"We don't need Brian to have a say in every bloody step of making a song. All three of us can play the guitar." John shrugs— Roger hates how easily Brian is brushed aside. "Don't worry, he'll soon be back to nag on and on about every single handed decision. We might as well try to get some work done before he gets back." 

He gets to his feet and walks into the recording box where producer Mack is playing around with the microphone position. 

Still leaning against the mixing table, Freddie, as soon the heavy door closes and they're alone, slanders over to Rogers side and flops down next to him. Deflating on a sigh. 

They're not quiet for long. Privacy never lasts long in the studio space. Soon Crystal will be back, Prenter will come in and Mack will be done fiddling in the record box.

Roger had forgotten when the last time was Freddie and he had a one on one moment.

"Is Brian okay, dear?" 

Roger finds himself trapped under Freddie's gaze. The singer taps his foot on the floor while he looks up at Roger.

Nothing has been okay ever since Brian had started his medication. Had gone off them, and started them again only in the span of 16 days. It had freaked out both Roger and the kids how much weight one can lose in such a short Period of time. They hadn't seen much of Brian in the past weeks, living like a ghost in the house. Asleep when they're awake. Haunting the corridors with heavy footsteps at night. 

Roger finds his throat dry and his fingertips sweaty. He has been running low on energy.

Even in his slightly disoriented state, Roger knows Freddie can tell he looks like shit and shittier with the passing day. Freddie might be terribly hungover and hadn't been able to spend time with Roger outside of studio hours, ever since the birth of George but he isn't blind or stupid. 

"He's fine." Roger lies. "We're all fine."

"But Rog—" 

The Omega climbs to his feet to avoid Freddie's piercing eyes. "I'm good."

"You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I have a baby." Roger insists. _A baby, two toddlers, three kids and a clinically depressed husband_. "Sleepless nights and diaper changes—"

"I've seen you juggle between nine months old Atlas and newborn twins, without this much difficulty." 

"Things were different then." 

Freddie's eyebrow subtly cocks up into his hairline. Roger fears that he is reacting exactly how Freddie had hoped he would. "How so?"

"I have six children now, for a start." Roger grinds out. "And I used to get help." 

He makes his way over to the recording box and slams the door behind himself before Freddie can come up with an apology or excuse.

~~~

"Papa???"

Roger swallows a sigh when Mae comes rushing into the laundry room with a ball under her little arm.

He is on his hands and knees sinking in a pile of laundry he has to divide. Next to him, Atlas is helping him fold the easy pieces for his weekly allowance.

Roger has been in the position for over two hours, he is grateful for an excuse to flop down onto his ass and welcome Mae with a forced smile and a kiss to her smooth forehead.

"Hello sweetie. Can I do anything for you?" 

She preens under the attention, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Wanna play outside Papa?" 

She presents him the ball between their bodies, holding it out with stretched arms. 

"I have to finish the laundry and then cook dinner, sweetheart. Not right now." He sighs, arms around her for the hug he knows she needs to get rid of her pout. "I'm sorry. Why don't you go ask Daddy, he's been in his bed all day."

"I already asked him!" Mae let's out a mournful whine, dropping her head onto Rogers shoulder and her arms around his neck.

Atlas is rolling her eyes. Roger ignores him in favor of comforting the little girl by patting her back.

"What did he say, hm?"

"Said he was too tired to go. He said I should ask you." She sniffles.

Roger can tell she is very close to some impressive crocodile tears he seriously doesn't want to deal with right now.

He brushes her curls away from her forehead to give her a kiss.

"Why don't you go play with Atlas. I can do the laundry on my own." He smiles despite both the kids' disappointed groans.

Mae had wanted to play with Roger. Atlas did not want to hang out with Mae. 

Roger can't please everyone.

"Off you go, hon. Can't have you mopping around. Go outside have fun, be careful." 

He ushers her off of his shoulder and Atlas to his feet. Gesturing towards the door while the two siblings slump their way out. Leaving Roger with a tall pile of unfolded laundry and a heavy heart.

~~~

Rogers head twists towards the door when he hears sloughing footsteps coming down the stairs. He first thinks it's one of the kids with an excuse to stay up longer. Needing a glass of water or complaining that their shirt itches their tummy. 

But to his surprise, it is not one of the kids that come rounding the corner into the kitchen, but a bleary eyed Brian. Sporting a scruffy beard and a sickly pale color to his skin.

Roger quickly drops the sponge he had been using to clean the dishes and turns to lean against the sink. 

He can't help but smile, despite the state Brian is in.

"Hi stranger."

Brian doesn't kiss Rogers puckered lips, simply squeezing his shoulder lightly between his bony fingers.

"Sorry I didn't make it to dinner."

"That's okay." Roger promises, watching Brian hunch around the kitchen. "I got some saved for you in the fridge."

Brian, instead of grabbing the foil covered plate with chicken and rice, grabs a glass of orange juice from the fridge and shuffles back towards the stairs. "I need to lay down. Sorry."

"It's okay-" 

Roger can't finish his sentence before the door is smacked closed again. He lets out a long shaky breath. 

~~~

"Some sleepless nights in wait for you.  
Some foreign presence you feel." Brian frowns at the piece of paper. His eyebrows knitted together while his hazel eyes scan over the lyrics. "That's a bit... corny isn't it?" 

"I like it." John counters. "It has a good tempo and the rhyme works."

They're for once _in_ the recording box instead of wasting their time on the couch. Brian is standing by the glass window, leaning against it with his shoulders hunched over the piece of scribbled lyrics. John is standing on the far wall of the room with his bass around his shoulders. Absently playing new riffs while letting Brians disapproval wash over him. 

Roger is seated behind his drums. Bored.

Freddie is three hours late. A record. Without his presence, Roger feels like suffocating in the small recording space.

"It's got a lot of basic lines in there. Rhyming _you_ with _true_ , isn't exactly groundbreaking."

"Not everything we do has to be groundbreaking." 

"I thought this album was going to be _different_ and _change Queens music forever._ " Brian air quotes. Roger wants to bust his head into the skin of his drum. "It has to be fresh then, or at least interesting." 

John stops plucking on the thick snares to give Brian a bored look. 

"Well, I like it." He declares with a solemn nod.

"Of course you do." Brian splutters. "You wrote the damn thing." 

Roger gets off of his stool with more difficulty than he would like to admit, slandering his way out of the recording box and from Brians tall shadow looming over him ominously.

"I wrote the song Bri." 

He closes the door behind himself before he can hear the spluttering words that follows.

He marches past Mack, Crystal and Jobby to the hallway in the far back. Where they have a shitty fridge and a poor excuse of a toaster. At least the kettle works and the phone is located there by the wall.

Nobody trails after him. Maybe three months ago Brian would have run after him to beg his forgiveness. 

Maybe three months ago Roger had cared enough to be hurt.

He knows Freddie's house number by heart. Dialing it quickly while holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. Leaning against the wall to safe himself some energy. 

The phone rings two, three, four times before Jims warm voice carries over the receiver.

"Jim Hutton speaking?"

"Hi Jim, it's Roger. Calling from the studio." He tries to keep his voice steady and neutral as to not discourage Jim from telling Freddie to hurry up and get there.

"Oh Roger! Haven't spoken to you in a while. How is little George doing?" 

Roger picks at the loose strings of his ratty jumper. Feeling rather comfortable and hidden under the thick threaded fabric. "He's just fine, keeping me on my those as he should." He smiles, genuinely, at the thought of his little boy. "Though Jim, I was wondering if you had any idea when Freddie will be ready to get to the studio? We're sorta stuck without him and I cannot stand a bloody minute longer alone in Brian and Johns presence. They're either gonna kill or fuck each other and I'm not a fan of either idea so—"

"Rog..."

"But well, actually, if it made all the fighting stop at once. Hm. Not sure if I'd say no to that—"

"Roger?"

"Yes?" Roger pauses at the edged tone of Jims usually melodically warming voice. "What is it?"

"Freddie hasn't lived with me for over two months." 

Rogers eyes fly wide open. He gapes at the wall before him as if it would give him an explanation for the information he had just received.

"Oh." He says dumbly. 

"Yeah."

Roger swallows past the awful tightness in his throat. "You two broke up?"

"I don't know, Roger. I love him, you know that right? I love him more than anyone could possibly phantom, but the drinking and the drugs and—" 

It was as if the world had began rotating backwards and everything that was once meant to be, got disconnected. 

Roger needs the wall to stop himself from sliding down to the floor and grab everyone's attention. 

"And... He can't always have everything he wants. He can't have the drugs and Paul and the alcohol and the parties _and_ me looking after him at the end of the day. I can't carry all of that by myself, I can't."

"I understand." Roger swallows thickly. "You don't have to explain, Jim. I understand."

~~~

"What are you two still doing up?"

Roger had already suspected Brian had been sneaking out of the house behind his back. He sees fancy clothes between the laundry and hears the keys jiggle late at night. Though Roger is often too exhausted to pull himself out of his sleep to check. 

Tonight, unlike ever before, Brian is caught in the act. 

He managed to dress in jeans and a blouse buttoned only halfway up, whilst Roger has solely seen him in sweats for two months. He looks decent and clean. He managed to shave off his disastrous beard and dipped into the shower.

There he stands, the supposedly Alpha of the house, looking small and frail by the living room door facing the kitchen. Denim jacket slung over his arm and his thick money filled wallet wedged in his front pocket. _Pub? Strip club? Prostitute?_

Roger wishes he could push such thoughts out of his mind, but it is impossible. Had he remembered the last time Brian kissed him, let alone slept with him. 

He and Atlas have been working on his maths homework for over 4 hours. Roger is sure this can't be a normal workload for a child. Roger could have easily given Atlas all the answers to the formulas, but that wouldn't teach him a single thing. Though the temptation was there once the clock read 9 pm. Their preferred bedtime. 

"Atlas is having trouble with his homework, he'd have asked your help, but you said you didn't feel well." 

Brian looks like he wants to be swallowed into the foundation of the house. Taking a shaky, insecure breath through his parted lips.

_Good._

"I'm just going for a beer." He whispers into the thick air. 

"Alright." 

Rogers voice is thinner than Brian these days. The ice makes Atlas cower into the chair next to him.

"Alright." Brian echoes. Disappearing into the hallway, just as Roger turns to his oldest child to comfort him with a loving hug and a kiss to his cheek. 

~~~

That evening Brian sleeps in the guest bedroom. Roger lets the click of the door across the hall signal that he is allowed to let his silent tears trickle down his pale cheeks. Swallowed by the pillow underneath him. 

He wonders just how long it will take for him to snap back to his old, less passive, tempered self. 

The Roger who cares. The Roger who fights. 

The next morning, Roger brings Brian his breakfast there, in the guest room. Pretending nothing has happened for both their sakes.

Brian thanks him with a poor gruff voice. Though not bothered enough to turn his body to face Roger. 

He is either hungover or sick. Or both.

Roger resists the urge to lean down and press his palm to Brians forehead, or give him a comforting kiss. The cold shoulder is a familiar sight by now.

He leaves the room with a silent. "I love you." And he closes the door before giving Brian the chance to reply.

Not risking the possibility Brian might not reply at all.

~~~

That day has set a routine Roger has never intended to start. Of Roger bringing Brian his basic necessities, but then leave him alone for the rest of the day. Turning a blind eye when Brian leaves in the late hours of the night. Stumbling home with the crack of dawn and once more crippled with his mental state stretching onto his physical state. 

Breaking this destructive cycle was now a crucial goal in Rogers every day life between recording and taking care of his six little monsters. 

"Hi." 

Roger doesn't wait for an invitation. He knows he wouldn't get one.

Brian has not been out of the room in a solid three days if it wasn't for 'the pub'. No showers, no Queen, no family time. Roger brings him his meals. Enabling him to do exactly that. 

"What is it, Rog?"

Roger sits down on the edge of the bed. Careful not to jostle Brians fragile body. 

"Your mum is maybe coming over to watch the kids."

"Why?"

"Well..." Roger pretends not to notice the miserable disdain in Brians voice at the prospect of more people coming to his house. "I was thinking that perhaps we could go to that new Alien movie in the cinema, just you and I. It requires no energy on your part. I'll drive us there and you can wait in the car while I buy the tickets. During the movie you don't have to do anything but watch and-"

"I'm really not feeling well today, Rog. Sorry."

Roger takes a shuddering intake of breath behind his hand. 

He swallows his pride. One hand inching closer to Brians shoulder, who rolls away the second their skin comes in contact.

"I can't do this today. I don't have the energy."

Roger nods. Removing his hand quicker than lightening.

"Right. Never mind then." 

He purposely lets the bedroom door clatter behind him as he leaves. Luckily he gets distracted by the shrilling cries of Zae downstairs. Followed by Atlas screaming "Papa! Zae peed her pants!"

~~~

"Sophia had never known of the curse that had fallen over their family over 100 centuries before—" 

Roger looks up from the book he's reading when he hears the slumped creaking of wood outside of the bedroom. Followed by the shadows of feet passing the slit of light under the door. 

Brian is leaving again.

"Papa?"

"Yes Honey?" Roger looks down at a very sleepy Mercury, barely holding onto his consciousness by sitting up against Rogers side. 

"How long is a century?"

"100 years." He smiles, weaving his hair through Johannas damp curls. The sweet girl fast asleep against his other side. They're all in her bed, soon when the chapter is over he'll have to carry Mercury back to his own. 

"Is there anything you don't know, Papa?" Mercury asks with big wide eyes.

Warmth spreads to Rogers cheeks and forces him to smile. Tapping Mercury's nose one single time. 

"There's a lot I don't know, I promise you that."

There's a pause between them. Roger lets it happen, for Mercury's face is twisting in the particular way he does when he is thinking quite deeply. His nose scrunches up when he manages to find the words.

"Uh... When is daddy going to be better? Do you know that?"

Roger wraps an arm around Mercury and pulls him impossibly closer against his side. Trailing his hand up and down his smooth chubby cheek. 

"Daddy is fine. He just needs to rest a lot."

"Like when I had the flu?" 

Rogers lip quirks. "Yes, like when you had the flu. You felt really icky, didn't you? Daddy is feeling icky now too. So we have to be kind to him." 

Mercurys big blue eyes make Roger want to be swallowed by the sky and never be found again. Sorrowless and young.

"Okay."

"Okay, now let's not worry about that. Let's read more and Princess Sophia, and the mysterious family curse." Roger prompts as he reopens the book on his lap. 

Telling the story until Mercury's soft snores signal the end of their reading session. 

~~~

The morning after, Brian doesn't come back home until all the kids are having breakfast at the dinner table and Roger is scrambling to have the baby in his arms while also prompting the others to finish their meal. 

Brian stumbles into the living room, bleary eyed and drunk. 

The kids are stunned silent. 

In an effort to protect them, Roger shoots up from his chair and physically blocks Brian from their vision. Leading him towards the couch, hunched over and green around the edges. 

_Where have you been?! You pig. How dare you walk back into this house without an ounce of shame. Drunk off your arse. Everyone can see how pathetic I has become. Letting you come home drunk at 8 am without a word. No different from any other Omega who allowed themselves to live in absolute misery at the disposal of their neglecting Alphas._

"Do you need a bucket?" Roger asks. 

Brian drunkly tumbles onto he couch with a grunted, "No." 

Roger could shoot himself in the face for throwing a blanket over Brians shivering body, and laying out his damned pills and a tall glass of water on the coffee table for when he wakes up. Much to Rogers dismay, the kids are watching with a haunted look in their eyes, until Roger loudly clasps his hands and offers everyone who finishes their breakfast a piece of chocolate. 

~~~

"He was out again."

"Figures."

Roger sighs out a cloud of smoke, leaning his head against the cool brick wall with the cigarette dangling between his lips.

Next to him, Crystal flicks the ash off of his own cigarette. They are on their smoking break in-between recording sessions.

"Why don't you just divorce him?" 

"I can hardly divorce him for being depressed." Roger murmurs. 

The usual playfulness is completely absent in Crystals eyes when he turns to face a disheveled Roger. "You can divorce him for being a dick."

Roger shrugs.

"It's only been three months."

" _Three_ months of you being a living like a desperate housewife, taking care of six kids, an enormous house, cooking all the meals and bringing it all the way to Brians bedside table. I'm surprised you're not wiping his fucking ass as well while you're at it." 

"Shut up." Roger says. He must look really fucking miserable, because Crystal drops the subject instantly. 

~~~

"Freddie?!" Rogers voice echoes against the walls of the tiny bathroom. "We need you in the box. John wants some vocals." None of the toilet stalls are locked, but Freddie's location is revealed as Freddie's Adidas trainers stick out from underneath the slightly opened door at the far end of all the stalls. 

Roger sighs, raising his hand to knock on the door— when he suddenly hears the wrenched noises of someone vomiting violently. 

"Fred?" 

Heart in his throat, Roger pushes the door open slowly and finds Freddie on the dirty floor, head bend over the toilet bowl and shivering— sobbing. 

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

On autopilot, Roger lowers himself down to the tiles as well and pries Freddie's face away from the dirty edge of the porcelain. Freddie moans miserably, wet hot tears slipping down his cheeks and disappearing into his mustache. His breath is reeks with alcohol. 

Rogers heart breaks at the sight of him. "Fred you're drunk. C'mon, let's get you—"

"No no no." Freddie sobs, dragging both himself and Roger back down onto the floor. "I'm sorry I'm not there for you."

"Freddie..." Roger strains with the effort of trying to drag Freddie out of the claustrophobic space. "C'mon, you shouldn't show up to work being drunk off your—"

"Brian is a prick. John is a prick. _I_ am a prick. I don't know how you can live with us."

"You're not a prick, you're just not yourself right now. That's all. You're drunk and you need to go home." He finally manages to support Freddie towards the sink in front of the mirror. Ignoring their reflections to spare him of their miserable states.

Roger quickly splashes some water onto Freddie's pale face. Trying to wipe the tears and last traces of sick away. 

Freddie leans onto both the sink and Rogers shoulder to stay on his swaying feet. 

"I don't want to go home." He looks sideways at Roger with a wobbling lip. "Jim isn't there." 

"I was wondering when you were gonna tell me about that." 

Roger hands Freddie a glass of water. Watching the singer take a big gulp and spit it back out into the sink. He keeps one hand between Freddie's shoulder blades, rubbing the smooth skin there. Once Freddie finishes rinsing is mouth, he turns to Roger and forces him into a heavy hug. Arms draped over his shoulders and tear stained face hidden by in Rogers neck. 

"We've all been so busy. I'm too busy Roger. I miss you. I miss the kids. I miss _music_ , I miss Jim. I want things to be normal again. Please."

"Okay." Roger looks up at the moldy ceiling to rapidly blink away his own tears. "Okay."

"Please, Rog." 

Freddie sobs a little harder when Roger pulls him in closer and presses a kiss to the crown of his head. 

"Okay. Alright, you don't have to go home."

"I don't want to be alone."

Roger nods at the drunken slurs falling from Freddie's lips. "Then you come home with me and Bri, okay?"

"Okay." Freddie sniffles.

~~~

Brian doesn't offer much of a reaction when at the end of the recording session, Freddie gets into the back of the car with him. 

Crystal is there too, as per usual, insisting on driving Roger home as a part of his personal assistant duties. 

With the two Alphas laying half dead in the second rows of seats in back of the car, the radio off and Crystal driving extra carefully in the rain, Roger has to fight the urge to fall asleep. Knowing full well that in less than twenty minutes he will be home and have to be alert to look after the kids.

They pick the lot up from Ruths house, who had been nice enough to pick them up from school, because the band was late to stop recording today. 

They're rowdy after having too many sugary cookies, missing their fathers and seeing uncle Freddie for the first time in months. Roger feels a headache building between his temples the second the car doors close and Crystal hits the gas. In the back, Brian covers his face with his hands and Freddie whimpers miserably. 

"It's gonna be a long day." Roger is twisted in his seat to rub his hand over George's belly, who is seated in his carrier between Brian and Freddie. "Think he got a temperature." 

"Shit." Crystal sympathizes, though his voice is nearly drowned out from the yelling in the backseat where a fight has broken our over a stray jelly bean found between the cushions.

~~~

Once they arrive at home, Crystal mercifully takes it upon himself to carry Freddie (who's not drunk as much as passed out) onto the couch. 

The children scurry around their legs wildly. Zig zagging and playing a dangerous game of tag in the living room. Shamelessly climbing onto furniture with their shoes on and leaving muddy prints on the cream carpet across the hallway and living room.

Upon entering the house after them, Brian goes straight for the stairs to get to the bedroom. Not sparing the absolute chaos a second glance.

Mae out of the blue jumps in front of him and takes a hold of his hand. 

"Daddy! Wanna come play with my dolls?"

Brian— one foot on the first step of the stairs, glances down at her big doe eyes and bends down to kiss the top of her head swiftly.

Momentarily Roger is fooled and believes he will give in to the poor girl, but he is proven wrong. 

"Not right now, Darling. I'm very tired." 

He pries her hand loose from his and makes his way up the stairs without another word. Leaving Mae to stare after him with big blurry eyes.

Roger and Crystal also watch him go. 

Roger sighs long and deeply, pulling his hair free from the baby's yanking grip while at the same time something made of glass breaks and shatters in the living room— 

"I'll tell Papa!" "Not if I kill you!" Followed by shrieks and giggles and the backdoor opening. 

Mae perks up from the commotion and scurries into the living room. 

Roger pulls the baby even closer to himself, resting his chin on his little head with the tiniest curls swirling up. He lets his scent comfort him, while he bounces the slightly warm child. 

"Do you need me to stay?" Crystal asks in a low serious tone, after taking in Rogers defeated face.

Roger blinks at him. He considers it. 

He has 3 kids, 2 toddlers and one baby who's close to getting sick, to look after. He has a heartbroken, slightly drunk, possibly an alcoholic Freddie crashing on his couch and Brian is upstairs to regain his energy after working for a full day. Overpassing his energy levels battled by his prescribed medication.

Despite all that, Roger shakes his head.

"You've worked for me since 5 am today. I'm sure you've actually got a life besides tending to me."

"I do."

"A boring one, though." Roger laughs, but it's cut short and doesn't reach his eyes. 

Crystal smiles. Eyes trailing down to their shoes.

"Okay so I- eh." He points at the door with his thumb, before shuffling towards it.

Roger nods. Watching him go into the rain with an undeniable envy for his freedom. His ability to walk away as he sees fit.

But just before Roger can close the door behind him, Crystal puts his hand between the doorpost and stops him. Eyes hard and alarmingly sad around the edges in a way that has Rogers gut sink right into his shoes 

"I need to tell you something."

~~~

Six kids in. Writing a disco album. 30 pounds above his preferred weight. Working on less than 5 hours of sleep in the last 48. Roger is nowhere in his life where he had always hoped to end up.

Standing im the softly dimmed nursery, bouncing a sobbing George in his arms to get him to calm down. 

The walls rattle with the shrilling cries. His entire body contracting with the deep breaths he has to take in order to produce said screams. 

Roger has his own tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. 

It's bloody awful to be standing in the dark, trying desperately to get your child to sleep, while you're dead on your feet, hoping the other children can find rest, because else they will he a cranky bunch tomorrow morning.

George is red in the face with crying. Rubbing his snot and tears into Rogers shirt.

After calling the doctor, it was confirmed George has a mild ear infection. Nothing serious if his fever doesn't climb up.

"Hey, baby. C'mon. All that screaming won't help your ears. It'll just make it worse huh." Roger whispers, kissing the crown of his head lovingly in an attempt to calm him down. As he has been attempting for well over three hours. It has left his arms sour and legs ready to buckle under his weight. 

George is sobbing. Fists clutched into Rogers shirt and his legs dragged towards his chest.

Roger would have done anything to take the pain away. Pacing the room, feeding him all day, giving him a bath, singing him a song, but nothing seems to work. His cries are permanently ringing through Rogers aching head. 

And Brian is nowhere to be found.

He had left somewhere between Roger bringing him dinner and Roger getting up to answer George's ear piercing sobs. 

Roger had grown increasingly more desperate for help. He ended up calling John, who didn't pick up. Then he tried calling Ruth, who also isn't awake at 3 am. 

Freddie is dead asleep on the couch. 

Roger, as pathetic as he feels to admit it, needs Brian. 

He had worked for a long time to mess it all up. He ran away from home to avoid a forced loveless marriage, he had gotten his biology degree, had sex with every person he had wanted to, gotten pregnant unmated and married only months after giving birth to his first son.

Even after that, even after mating and marriage and having a child, Roger never gave into his role of the submissive.

Today, Roger realizes as he finally— finally manages to let George cry himself into a restless sleep of pure exhaustion, Roger has let the situation gone too far. 

He wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt as he staggers over to the bedroom.

Too exhausted to do anything for himself, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, changing his clothes— Roger falls back onto the mattress and lets himself be engulfed with the softness of the sheets. He rolls over to check if the baby monitor is on, confirmed by George's soft breaths, Roger finally allows his eyes to flutter closed and curl his knees to his chest. Trying desperately not to think of what he has become. 

Trying not to think of the glaring numbers of his alarm-clock that tell him Brian is out of the house at 3:47 am. 

The thought makes Roger nauseas and his heart beats a tad too fast to fall asleep. The gaping cold on the mattress beside him also prevents Roger from finding rest. 

Therefor, he stays awake. Listening to the distant breathing of his son that tells him at least _something_ is okay. 

Then— as if on que, the front door opens and closes downstairs.

Roger holds his breath. Listening to Brian entering the house and going straight for the stairs. 

The shrilling blood rushing to Rogers ears does not lessen when he hears Brians drunk footsteps shuffle into the dark bedroom.

He closes the door with a loud click.

Roger doesn't close his eyes to pretend to be asleep. Not when Brian kicks his shoes out by the door, or when he dives into bed with his clothes still on. When he falls onto the mattress he strictly stays on his side of the bed. Back facing Roger as he settles in with a heavy sigh.

No hello. No kiss. No caress of his cheek.

It is sad for Roger to realize he has gotten used to the lack of affection shared between them.

He tries to close his eyes and take a calming breath, matching George's rhythm. To sleep, ignore and forget like he has done for the past few months. 

Uneasy sleep overtakes his exhausted mind by now. He knows Brian is safe at home, there's no children crying in the hallways. The sleep deprivation should overtake Roger into a slumber. 

His eyelids droop closed and the rhythmical breathes get him dangerously close to subconsciousness.

But the second Roger rolls over to face Brians back and Brians scent hits his nostrils, Rogers eyes fly open once more and he sits upright in bed to turn on the bedside lamp and actually look at whatever is left of what used to be his mate.

Roger presses his hand to his nose to block the burning scent of another Omega on Brians skin. 

"Get out of my bed. Fucking get out!" 

Brian might have been sleeping, hair tousled and skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat. But Rogers sudden, rage filled roar forces him out of bed within a split second. His hollow eyes are wide and panicked and he can barely hold himself on his shaking knees due to the amount of weight he had lost over the past few months.

He tries. Really tries.

In two cautious steps, Brian comes around the bed and reaches out to touch Roger. "No, no, Roger. It's nothing like that—"

The second his trembling hand attempts to wrap around Rogers wrist, he knows he has made a mistake. 

"I gave you five children, Brian. Five. I married you. I did everything for us. This is what I get back? I gave you everything I had." 

Roger is shaking nearly as much as Brian, but he is red with fury. His teeth clatter with rage soaring through him.

Brian holds onto the bedpost to stay upright. He sounds like a child when he speaks up in a voice a hundred times less powerful than Rogers. 

"I don't have anyone else." 

A mere, weak whisper into ice cold air sets off an emotion in Roger, Brian had not seen before. 

He takes a step forward into Brians space. Pointing a sharp accusing finger against Brians heaving chest.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Crystal saw you!" Brians eyes widen. "Yes he did. Crystal saw you with that _woman_ in some pub." Roger covers his face with his hands. He is no longer just red with anger, but now the shame overtakes him too. He pulls away from Brian again as if he had been burned. Then he stumbles back. Hands clamped in his short hair and looking at the ceiling desperate to comprehend what his life has come too. 

He should have known Brian was cheating on him. Crystal would never lie, but Roger would lie to himself. Hold on that it might all be a scam in the end.

"I didn't want to believe him. I couldn't, because you and I got married. We forgave each other, we fell in love and we chose our lives together. Didn't think you had it in you, to go out and _fuck_ some other bitch, while I'm at home with your screaming children. All by my fucking self!"

"I told you," Brians voice is trembling as much as his hands. He closes his eyes and tears slip onto his hollow cheeks. "I can't do it right now. I'm not feeling like myself. My medication makes me so tired. Queen is falling apart and-" 

"Apparently not tired enough not to to go out and fuck someone else." Rogers gasps at his own words. 

His voice is suddenly quiet, he stops pacing the small square around him and slowly turns to look at Brian with glassy, tear blurred eyes. Dark with the embarrassment of betrayal. 

The look Brian gives back is sad. Weak. 

Like the last few months.

"You smell like beer and sweat. Like _her_. You smell like another Omega and you thought you could crawl into bed with me, without me saying anything?" Roger asks. His lip trembles dangerously. Despite his effort not to cry. "You have no fucking respect for me!" 

He pulls at the roots of his hair. Not the first time he wonders what it was that he did that made him deserve the situation he is in now.

"When was the last time you actually kissed me? What the fuck is wrong with me than? Tell me!"

This time, Brian manages to stumble towards Roger and actually force his hands on Rogers lowered shoulders. Slumped and tired. 

Brian bends down to force off eye contact. Squeezing Rogers shoulders to desperately convey his message. 

Roger masks a sharp intake of breath. The feeling of skin to skin contact had been lost in his memories.

"Listen to me, right now. I didn't have sex with anyone, Roger. I promise. I would never have an affair with anyone." Brian licks his lips. His Alpha instincts are unhappy with the discontent pouring off of Roger. He pulls Roger even closer then, until their chests and faces are nearly touching. Brian closes his eyes. "I just needed an escape from this routine, it's killing me, Rog. Literally killing me. Everything in my life it's just too much right now, I needed to forget about all of that, I need to stick to my pills and find a way to be normal. Everything is falling apart because I cannot mentally do anything anymore without it feeling like I am climbing Mount Everest. You can't blame me for how I am feeling, this medication is fucking with my brian. But I didn't sleep with anyone. I promise." 

"You can't always be the fucking victim." Roger aggressively pulls himself out of Brians touch. He twists his head away before he can start crying, he pushes past Brian and stomps towards the door.

On his way out, he nearly stumbles over one of Brians discarded shoes. Roger seethes with anger. In one swift motion, he bends down to pick it up and slings it towards Brian. Aiming for his head and miserably failing as it clatters against the wall to the left of Brian- who didn't even bother to duck. 

Brian watches the shoe tumble to the floor. Shoulders deflating. "Roger-"

"I fucking hate you!" 

~~~

The first thing Roger does, is check up on the kids. 

His instincts tell him to rage and throw something else to feel the satisfaction of seeing it shatter to bits and he destroyed by his own hands, but he is in his 30's now and he has parental responsibilities he intends to keep. 

The children— to Rogers relief all seem to have slept through the commotion. He passes all their rooms, smooths their hair back and tucks them into their beds warmly. 

The last room he goes into is Zae's nursery. He seems to be the only one who is awake, staring up at Roger with blue hooded eyes.

Roger takes him out of the barred bed to balance him on his hip. Softly asking him if he's okay. Zae— awake but apparently too tired to talk, simply lays his head on Rogers shoulder and lets himself be bounced with his thumb wedged between his lips.

"You should get some sleep, baby."

"Mhm."

"Yes you do." Rogers hot anger flashes into the back of his mind. Softly swaying his child in his arms to attempt lulling him to sleep. "You have to sleep so you can become strong and big."

Zae doesn't seem very interested. The tired look on his long face reminds Roger too much of Brian. He smells like Brian as well. 

Roger continues to bounce him, until soft breaths turn into soft snores.

He lays the sleeping child back into bed as carefully as Rogers exhausted arms could manage and tucks the blanket snuggly around him. Making sure he wouldn't become cold over the hours and then kissing his dream-furrowed-brow softly. 

Tip toeing out of the room, Roger already feels slightly better. 

~~~

Roger makes his way downstairs to the kitchen. He is relieved to find it empty and that Brian is still locked upstairs in their bedroom.

It is past 4 am now— or so the clock above the dinner table says and Roger just turned on the kettle to fix himself a warm drink, when soft footsteps come up from behind him, revealing not Brian, but Atlas coming downstairs with a sheepish look on his puffy face. 

Roger had just tucked him into bed. Thinking he was asleep, but the crimson red flush of his cheeks says otherwise. 

There's only one light on in the whole room, but Roger can tell the little boy is nervous as he shuffles closer towards an open armed Roger. 

He stops right into the embrace. Voice muffled by Rogers pudgy stomach. 

"Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?" 

Roger squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his grip around his son. "No, baby. Don't say silly things." 

For this exact reason he had so desperately hoped none of his children had witnessed the fight between Roger and Brian. Or heard it. 

"I heard you yell at him." Atlas mumbles as he plays with the edge of Rogers worn shirt that once belonged to Brian. 

"Sorry, you shouldn't have to deal with that." 

"Can I say something? Don't be mad..." 

Roger pauses when Atlas almost immediately tries to change the subject. He pushes the kid away from the embrace slightly, only to help him hop up onto the kitchen counter so they can have an eye-to-eye conversation. "Of course. Here you go." 

Atlas' eyes are red with tears and Roger had his hands on his knees and _smiles_. However odd and unnatural it might feel in the moment. 

"You know you can always tell me anything." Roger says after a moment of silence, brushing a tear away from Atlas' cheek as soon as it slips down. "I won't be mad at you for talking to me." 

Atlas blinks up at him from underneath his tear clumped lashes. His fingers continue to fiddle with Rogers shirt. In raising Atlas for 9 years, Roger has never seen the poor kid this nervous.

"I saw Daddy step out of a woman's car... at the corner of the street while I was playing outside."

The words have barely sunken in, even a few moments of silence later in which only the kettle dared to make a noise. Roger hides all emotions from his face. Though he cannot help his jaw setting tensely as he clenches his teeth with the effort not to explode. 

"When was this?" 

"J-just a week ago. Do you really think Dad is cheating on you?" 

_Cheating_. Roger swallows thickly. 

He had yelled at Brian with accusations. Crystal had seen the same thing, Brian with a woman on his arm. And now Atlas retells the same story.

A woman. Cheating.

Brian cheating. 

"I'm not discussing that with you, baby." Roger carefully decides to say after a pregnant silence hanging between them. "Your dad is your dad, and he will always be your dad." 

Roger momentarily pulls back to pour the hot water from the kettle into his favorite mug. Which is one handmade by Mercury for fathers day. 

He chooses a basic Rosemary tea sack to soak into the water. 

The whole time Atlas watches him like a hawk, biting his bottom lip as he fiddles nervously. 

"He shouldn't cheat on you." When silent tears begin to leak rapidly from his eyes, Roger wraps his arms around his waist once more. Trying desperately to comfort him when he isn't even quite sure how to comfort himself in the situation at hand. 

"I'm sorry..." Atlas whispers, wiping his face clean in Rogers ruined shirt. "I'm sorry."

"Baby, listen to me." Roger cradles his delicate face between his hands. Smiling softly at the child as he forces him to look at him. He thumbs away the tears that continue to slide down his face. "Your dad told me he wasn't seeing anyone else. We all make mistakes, but we have to trust each other too. I trust your dad, he is my Mate. I was just angry because I have been quite tired. That's why I yelled." 

"But what about the woman?" Atlas hiccups. His chest heaving with an effort not to burst with emotions and awake up the entire house in the process. 

"Dad says she's nobody, okay? We need to-" 

Just as Roger has Atlas convinced Brian is not an unfaithful douchebag, the Alpha of the house comes walking downstairs with a mortified expression. 

"You told Atlas?!" 

"I didn't-" 

"Roger, he is a child! You shouldn't involve him with our issues! Are you crazy?" 

Atlas is right back to sobbing loudly into Rogers shirt, his legs wrapped around Rogers waist as he tries to drown out the sound of their voices. Shaking his head frantically. 

Roger glares at Brian from over his shoulder as he picks Atlas up from the counter, thrusts a couple of tissues into his hands and offers him the cup of tea he had made for himself. 

"Darling, go upstairs and get under the covers. I'm coming to read a chapter of your book in a few minutes." He says— still smiling. 

Atlas doesn't look sure about leaving. His eyes dart between Brians red angry face and Rogers strained smile while he stays plastered against Rogers side. 

"But..."

"Do as I say, Daddy and I are gonna have a chat. We are all fine, okay?"

The look on his face is oddly similar to when Brian has to make a compromise in the studio. "Okay..."

"Good, off you go now." Roger pushes, sending Atlas upstairs with his hands full. 

"We love you." He calls after him. While the young boy struggles to pass Brian without having to make contact with him in the narrow door leading to the hallway. 

Brian watches the scene before him with his arms crossed over his chest. 

They wait until Atlas has made his way up the stairs and the sound of his bedroom door closing echoes through the silence of the house.

Brian takes the opportunity to step closer to Roger and hiss. "You should never involve him in our arguments. Never." 

"Hmm. Well then maybe _you_ shouldn't be dropped off by your girlfriend on the corner of the street for your own children to see."

Roger isn't sure whether he feels satisfied at the sight of Brian paling, or to feel deeply wounded. _Caught in the act._

"H-he saw me?" 

"He just came to me and told me he saw you with another Omega." 

Brian stumbles backwards until he can sit on the edge of the table and cover his face with his hands. He is drained. Rogers chest is heaves with too many emotions to sufficiently care. 

"What do you expect me to think now, huh?" 

Roger watches Brian rub his sunken face miserably. 

"Say something!"

Brian drags his hands away from his face. Revealing tear brimmed eyes staring at Roger with miserable whimper, which Roger feels nothing for. 

"I... I thought that if Queen continues to head in this direction, I soon won't have a place in the band anymore... So I went out and found myself a new band. Chrissie, uh, the omega." Brian fiddles with his fingers, like Atlas does. "She plays piano and sings backing." 

"You're not together?" Roger asks, leaning back against the counter with his palms.

Brian shakes his head frantically. Curls bouncing where they frame his face. "No, she drives me home from practice... Sometimes the band goes for a beer. That's where Crystal saw me." 

"Are you leaving Queen?" 

"Not until I'm thrown out." 

The lack of pauses between his sentences make Brian appear more on edge. Sharper than he can truly be, while he is half drunk and barely holding onto that horrific medical regime. 

"Does she flirt with you?" Roger isn't sure whether he wants to truly know or not. Gripping the edge of the counter harder when Brians cheeks burn scarlet. 

"Maybe." 

Roger nods, slow and thoughtfully as he scans Brians miserable form down. "Do you like it?" 

Roger gets it. He has always liked it when people flirt with him. In clubs or after a gig. When, despite the obvious mark on his neck, they try to have a piece of him and he charmingly gets to reject their efforts.

He understands the appeal, but it still hurts. Thinking of the many nights Brian had spend outside the house. Presumably with his new band and new Omega and new life.

Instead of offering a reply, which would surely break Rogers heart, Brians eyes plea for mercy.

"I'm sorry."

Rogers knuckles have gone white from how hard he is gripping the counter. 

"Do you want to break up?" 

"No." 

"Do you still want to be a father?" 

Brians eyes widen and he gets to his feet to clutch his hands to his chest where his heart is beating rapidly against his ribcage. He is slowly closing in on Roger. Roger cannot back up any further than he is now, presses up against the counter like a trapped animal. "Of course I do. The kids are the best thing that's ever happened to me." 

Roger scoffs. _Of course_. 

"You haven't been around much, Brian. I don't know what you're thinking anymore. I don't know where you go. I don't know how you feel." He spreads his arms out and points between their chests, where there is barley any space left. "You don't touch me anymore. We don't have sex, you don't kiss me goodnight. You say it's your depression, but-" 

Just as the first actual tear begins to drip out of Rogers left eye, Brian closes the space between them and tightly winds his arms around Roger.

Roger— with a deep shuddering sigh and a half fried brain, lets himself be manhandled into the first hug he's had in weeks. 

Brian rests his chin on Rogers head to keep the closeness. Running his hand up and down Rogers back warmly.

"I'm so angry at you." 

"I know." Brian pulls away just enough to lean in to give him a kiss, but just before their lips connect, Roger pushes him away.

"Go have a shower. You smell." 

"Sorry." Brian blushes, eyes watery as well. Too low on energy in the past few days to actually take a shower. He scrambles for an excuse or an apology. He isn't sure what he is trying to say. "I-I just..." 

But Roger presses a finger to his lips and shakes his head. 

"It's okay, I know." 

But for Brian the image of hurt and betrayal is now forever burned onto his eyes. 

He clutches Rogers shoulders between his palms and squeezes him when Roger has a hard time looking him in the eye.

"I haven't kissed anyone else since I kissed you on the Mott the Hoople tour. Our first kiss." 

Roger— lips pressed into a thin line believes him. 

"And you're beautiful and hard working. I don't understand how Queen changing and being a parent to six doesn't terrify you, but." Brian swallows. Adams apple bopping. "I love you and I have never loved and respected anyone so much." 

Roger watches him carefully from under his tear stained eyelashes. Warmth curls close and sweet around his heart. 

And he finds it within himself to give in. 

"I love you too."


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian has some explaining to do. Roger has to see where their relationship will go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atlas: 1974  
> Johanna: 1975  
> Mercury: 1975  
> Mae: 1978  
> Zae: 1979  
> George: 1982  
> Saralina: 1983  
> ?: January 1985  
> Finale Baby: 1988
> 
> Trigger warnings same as the tags! And have fun reading everyone

"I have a confession to make."

Brian shifts uneasily under Dr Whelmers calculated gaze. The leather cushions of the armchair make a strangled squeaky noise.

"You got me on the edge of my seat, Brian. Do tell me." He tries to sound light hearted, but he is a psychiatrist, not an actor. "Why did you make an extra appointment this week?"

"I—" 

He has the sudden urge to draw his knees up to his chest and curl in on himself like a child.

But he can't. Having promised Roger he would step up and fix the current situation he has worked himself into.

With a shaky breath, Brian reaches into his jacket and reveals a tiny container with the oval shaped pills. Rattling in their confinement as Brian sets them onto the coffee table between him and Dr Whelmer. 

"I don't think I have been using these responsibly."

A grey bushy eyebrow pushes up to Whelmers hairline. Behind his glasses, he frowns.

"What does that mean, Brian?"

Shame overtakes him and causes a flush all the way to the tips of his ears. 

He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket and the loose threads on his jeans. He cannot bear to look Whelmers in the eye like a grown man. Not after Whelmer had explicitly explained all those weeks ago that the medication would be a big responsibility with a high risk. 

"Over the past few months I have not kept to the schedule we had decided on for the pills." 

Brian picks his words carefully as to not stumble over them. 

"I stopped as soon as the side effects set in, but before I had a chance to admit it to you I went back to overusing them, because the depression set in full force because I had stopped abruptly." Brians foot taps hard and fast against the carpeted floor in Whelmers office. "And therefor I abused them when I felt fit. I was too ashamed to admit I was practically self medicating for almost three months. I am _still_ deeply ashamed, but it is harming my family."

"So you came to face the facts."

Brian gives a stiff nod. He rubs his sweaty palms onto his jean clad thighs. 

Dr Whelmer sighs at the sight of him. Brian thoughts he couldn't grow more red, but his flush deepens into a dark embarrassed scarlet.

"Brian."

"Yes?"

Brian finds it within himself to meet the older mans eye. Whelmer scoots closer towards him in his seat, perched on the very edge so he can meet Brians eye level in his hunched position. 

"I am not here to scold you. I _am_ worried about your safety, though."

Brian nods once again at the stressed words. 

Dr Whelmer grabs his notebook and scribbles down a number of sentences, before handing the carton book onto Brians lap with a stiff smile.

"If you can write down the current pattern of your pill intake, we can come up with a schedule to gradually stop your current medication." Whelmer then gives him the pencil. "I don't think this is working for you."

Brian swallows thickly. 

"Me neither."

~~~

"Hey you two,"

Roger tilts his head up to receive the brief kiss Brian offers as he walks into the kitchen, where both Roger and Freddie are watching the kids play around in the garden. Too busy splashing about in the rain to notice Brians return. Except for George, who's currently nursing in Rogers arms. 

"Having a good day?" 

Roger grins up at him when Brian leans in to brush his index finger over George's chubby cheeks. Hastily suckling on Rogers nipple with wide eyes. "Discussing how Freddie is gonna win back Jims heart." 

Brian lets out a good natured snort. Patting Freddie's back on his way to the fridge. "Let me know when you find a way. I might take note."

"You can start with handing me the cookie jar."

Brian obediently offers Roger and then a rather somber looking Freddie a cookie from the old jar they had once taken from Sarahs old home. 

"I don't know, darlings. I really messed up this time." 

Freddie theatrically lays his head on Rogers shoulder with a long drawn out sigh. 

If Roger had an arm to spare, he'd have wrapped it around the mournful Alpha. "It can't be that bad, Fred. The other day when I called him, he said he loved you."

"And he said that he couldn't do it anymore."

Roger cringes. Looking up at Brian for help— Who's making himself a glass of orange juice and the boys some tea. 

Brian smiles at Roger, stepping forward with their mugs and his own glass.

"You know Fred, he's put up with you for over eight years. _Eight_. Are you telling me you'll let him walk away without a fight?" 

Freddie peeks at Brian from Rogers comfortable shoulder. "No..."

"No. I think true love is worth fighting for. You know Jim, he doesn't want something grand. He wants something genuine." Brian brings the brim of his glass to his lips— trying not to gloat at the two pairs of impressed eyes staring at him. "Think about that."

"I will." Freddie hums.

Brians eyes stay on Rogers for a moment longer. Taking him fully in while he's openly feeding their child, shirt discarded over the back of his chair, holding George against his bare chest protectively in the crook of his elbow, his hair curls slightly around the edges teasingly wisped over his eyes. Sunken with exhaustion from the night before when they had fought. 

"No eye-fucking while I'm here being miserable." Freddie grumbles. 

Brian blinks out of his trance. He hadn't even noticed he was staring for a prolonged period at his nursing Mate.

"Shut it, Fred." Roger chuckles, elbowing the Alpha in the ribs with the arm supporting George's bum. 

Brian smiles at Roger for a moment longer. The changes in his face over the past few weeks are admirable. The dark bags under his eyes and the pale tint of hid skin, combined with the not completely dispatched pregnancy weight. 

He hadn't noticed the toll this period had taken on Roger until now. Worn around the edges and tired.

But more beautiful than he could ever be. 

With his long eyelashes and dimply cheeks when he smiles down at the snuffling baby.

"Oh!" 

Roger gasps when Brians lips are suddenly connected to his. Only briefly pressing them together before he pulls back again. Leaving Roger dazed and smiling up at him incredulously.

"I just need a quick nap and then I can help making dinner." Brian adds, almost as an afterthought.

Roger seems unexplainably more baffled now— though with a smile on his face. "Okay."

"Okay."

Freddie glances between them with a quirked eyebrow. "Okay."

~~~

Dinner is delicious, for a change.

Brians stomach has admittedly shrunken over the past few months after having not eaten much due to his nausea complications.

It's good to have given Roger a hand in making dinner. For the first time in weeks the kids are eating a meal that isn't half burned or soaked in a thick layer of gravy to mask its lack of flavor.

Brian is tired. Exhausted to the bone from the number of things he ended up doing today.

Yet he wouldn't miss it for the world to see Atlas feeding Zae her mashed potatoes. Or Johanna and Mercury argue over who the strongest sister is in the book they're reading together. The way Mae demands Freddie's attention by pulling on his white shirt with her greasy fingers and how Freddie skillfully doesn't comment on the stains they leave on his satin sleeve. 

Roger, sitting just by the head of the table, is looking at Brian as well.

They smile when their eyes meet. Fingers finding each other on top of the tablecloth and intertwining with great familiarity. 

"Fred?" 

Freddie looks up from his hushed conversation with Mae to glance at Brian from across the table. "Yes, Love?"

"Would you be okay watching the kids tonight, while I steal Roger for the evening?"

Both Roger and Freddie's eyes widen comedically wide. Showing off the white in their contrasting eyes. Though to Brians fortune, Freddie couldn't be more happy to scramble for a yes.

"Of course, dear! Of course. I'll make sure to keep the kids from the upper floor." He winks suggestively as he says it. 

Both Roger and Brian have suffered from sexual innuendos too often to feel embarrassed over a crass joke. Though Brians cheeks do turn red from the idea.

It _has_ been a while.

"No." Brian says simply. Rubbing his thumb onto the back of Rogers smooth hand. Tracing the warm skin. "I was thinking about a date."

The Omega blinks at him. "A date?" He asks, in the softest voice Brian has ever heard him speak in.

"A date. If you'll have me."

"Stop looking weird at each other!" Johanna groans from across the table.

Both Roger and Brian burst out into a laughing fit, while Freddie lectures the young girl about expressions of love.

~~~

"So this is your plan huh?" Roger asks rhetorically. "To win back my good graces."

"Something like that—." Brian laughs as Roger climbs onto the edge of the dock to walk onto the slim wooden plank that prevents toddlers from falling into the sea. "Be careful."

"I got you, right?" Roger grins back, indeed using Brians hand that he's clutching to keep himself from falling over and slipping down. Either on top of Brian or into the sea.

They're walking by the beachside. Not too far from their house.

The sun is just setting and Rogers eyes reflect the sparkling glitters of the dark water perfectly.

Brian admires him almost too intently— nearly losing his grip on Roger, who yelps when a breeze hits and nearly topples him into the freezing ocean if it wasn't for Brian stepping forward and wrapping his arms around his waist like a lifeline.

"Oh my God!" Brian gapes up at Roger— who's tip toes are still on the ledge. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

Roger giggles, leaning down to press his lips against Brians lips warmly. Whilst also cradling Brians chin between his freezing hands. 

"All thanks to you."

"You've been keeping my head above the surface long enough. Only fair I should return the favor." 

Brian wishes Roger after nearly slipping would give up and walk next to him, but he predictably does the exact opposite. Clamping his hand around Brians arm and once again trying to walk on the edge of the raised dock with a small smile playing on his lips and a breeze in his hair.

It's cold out. And there's nobody else on the beach but them and a couple of seagulls. 

The sound of waves crashing is predominant, instead of the usual crowded calls of their children.

"If you keep staring at me, I won't be able to concentrate and I'll fall over." Roger complains without an ounce of heat in his voice. Though he wobbles slightly when the hight of the plank suddenly changes and he struggles to find his balance.

Brians heart beats rapidly in his chest. Holding out his other hand for Roger just in case he might need it, but the Omega slaps it away dismissively. 

"I can handle myself, thank you."

"Oh I know that." Brian grins, despite the nervousness he's experiencing.

Lucky for Brian and his clammy hands, they have nearly reached the end of the dock and there Roger finally allows Brian to help him down to the floor again. Where underneath the slits of wood the ocean descends. 

They find themselves standing by the very end peering down at the water below them. Holding onto each others hands so tightly that if one decided to jump, the other one would follow like an anchor. 

The sun is setting in the far horizon. And Roger lays his head on Brians shoulder as he watches the sun and Brian watches Roger.

"I missed this."

Brian kisses the top of Rogers head. "I did too."

His hand is much bigger than Rogers and when he uses his other hand to clasp between his two, it's engulfed in warmth and protection. 

Brian, with his nose still rubbing against Rogers hair to sniff at him, plasters himself closer to the Omegas side.

"I owe you an apology."

Roger blinks away from the sunset, to instead glance up at Brian, quirking up an eyebrow. _Go on._

"I—" Brian hums, bringing Rogers hand to his chest and pressing it tightly against the area where his heart is beating rapidly against his hollow ribcage. "I have been a shitty husband."

"You were depressed—"

"I know. _I_ know, but that doesn't mean that what I did was right. I misused my medication, I was tired and uncommunicative because admitting I was losing everything wasn't an option. Or it didn't feel like an option. I was shitty and instead of facing the fire, I avoided you and— you were there for me, even though I was self sabotaging. I _hated_ myself, Rog. I hated myself so much and my actions only confirmed the reasons why I hated myself and my medication or sudden lack thereof made me too tired to change and act on my flaws. Queen sessions made me tired, so I stayed in bed. The kids made me tired, so I slept. I couldn't bear the sight of what I was doing to you, so I avoided you. I went out at night and I thought of finding myself something else. Alcohol when I wasn't on medication, or a new band when I felt stuck with Queen. But never a new Mate, because... Because you're perfect the way you are. And I never wanted—"

"Brian." 

Roger presses a finger to Brians lips. Eyes wide and blue in the last rays of light the sun has to offer. 

"Yes?" Brian asks in a raspy voice from behind Rogers fingertip.

"You're ranting."

His serious face suddenly morphs into a warm smile as he glances up at Brian from underneath his curtain of eyelashes. "You don't have to rant. I already forgive you."

"You said you were angry." Brian murmurs.

Roger rolls his eyes, tugging on Brians arm. "That was yesterday, Bri. I also threw a shoe at your head. All in the past."

It weights on Brians heart that he is so easily forgiven, and Roger only has to look at him for less then half a second to tell that the situation hasn't fully settled in Brians heart yet.

Roger huffs, bringing their intertwines hands to his lips and kisses Brians knuckles.

"I forgive you."

Brian nods. Hesitant— but he nods. 

"Alright." He gulps thickly. "Thank you. For everything."

"But, promise me that nothing like this will ever happen again. You can be depressed, tired, stressed and suicidal. But you always talk to me and always find adequate help. This is our lives, our _kids._ " 

"I know." Brian winces. Feeling shame wash over him not for the first time that day.

He has to stop himself from beating himself up mentally and falling down a dark spiral. Focussing now instead on the blue around Rogers pupils and appreciate the care that pours out of them. 

"Then did the knob switch now? Just like that? You won't be depressed all day and wandering into the night?"

Brian flushes red all over again. Sheepishly rubbing his thumb over Rogers knuckles. 

"No more night wandering. No second bands, not until Queen is on a break again." He promises. "My medication should stabilize my mood over the next few days. I will get counseling after that to see what could help me on a long term."

"Unlike the pills."

Nodding, Brian rests his forehead against Rogers. "Dr Whelmer pronounced me too irresponsible for regulating my own medication."

"And right he is!" Roger chuckles, before standing onto the tips of his toes and pulls Brian down for a closed lipped kiss that leaves Rogers toes curling in his shoes. "Rome wasn't built in a day. I'm not expecting you to be perfect. I'm just expecting you to be there."

"I can do that, it'd be an honor to be there, for you." Brian whispers against Rogers lips. Brushing them apart with his own lips to gain further excess.

"You sap." Roger grins— neither of them care that they completely forgot to look at the sunset before them. 

~~~

"This was a long day."

"It was." Roger falls back onto the bed before Brian does. They're forced to speak in hushed voices, after having just put their little ones to bed. "I had a good time, Bri."

Brian can't help himself. 

He bends over to peek down at his mate, who is spread out luxuriously over both their sides of the bed. Loose shirt riding up his pudgy stomach, still bouncing back from his pregnancy, making a smile spread wide over Brians face. 

"You're beautiful."

"Come here." Roger wriggles his eyebrow and beckons Brian closer with his index finger. "Come here and shut up." 

Brian obediently crawls in bed next to Roger, half plasters himself on top of him due to the lack of space for himself. He splays his hand over Rogers chest where his heart is beating calmly. He slides his leg between Rogers and spreads them wider to fit himself in. 

"Shut me up." Brian whispers against Rogers soft cheek, crawling impossibly closer to press wet kisses down Rogers long exposed neck. 

Roger stifles a giggle behind his hand.

Letting Brian crawl between his legs and cup his face to angle his chin up for a warm kiss. 

"I love you." Roger breathes. "So much."

"I love you too." 

Brian is on top of Roger now. Leaning on his elbows to keep his weight off of him. They kiss again, lips soft and wet against Rogers when they move together in a languid rhythm. 

Beneath him, Roger finds himself growing aroused. 

He presses his hips closer to Brian. Trying to grind against him with a quiet sigh. 

"Bri?"

"Yeah?" Brian asks in between kisses to the corner of Rogers mouth. 

Roger hooks his fingers onto the waistband of Brians underwear. Teasingly pulling on the elastic. 

He pouts. "Fuck me?" 

Brian trails the tips of his fingers down the tingling sides of Rogers neck. Letting his lips drag over his cheek, before pulling back with a sad smile. Sitting onto his heels to create some space between their heaving chests.

"What's wrong?" Roger asks, also sitting up slightly by leaning on his elbows. 

"My medication... It makes it difficult for me to uh—" Brian clears his throat, fiddling with his own fingers, until Roger reaches out to clutch his hand with a loving squeeze. Brian looks up at him briefly, before avoiding eye contact again. "I don't get hard."

His face is beet red when Rogers eyes widen comedically. Lips popping open in a surprised 'o'.

"Yeah." Brian rubs the back of his neck with the hand Roger isn't holding. "Sorry." 

The Alpha is ready to climb off of Roger and cool his heated face down in the bathroom by splashing some cold water over his face, but just as he rocks on his heels to slide off the bed, Roger hooks his ankle around Brians and forces him to fall forward onto Rogers chest with a yelp. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Roger chuckles, wrapping his arms around Brians neck and smothering him.

"I—"

"A cuddle will do." Roger says solemnly, Brian cannot sense an ounce of doubt in his eyes.

"Will it?" He asks nonetheless.

Roger pulls his neck closer and kisses his nose sweetly. Smiling up at him like it is Christmas morning, Brian feels warmth stir deep in his underbelly. "Yes."

"Okay." Brian closes his eyes. Blindly reaching over to the side to turn off the bedside light. Effectively darkening the room.

They snuggle closer to one another. Brian finds his nose pressed against the sensitive spot between Rogers neck and collarbone. He breathes in the pure smell of his Omega, while his hands rest on the pillow next to Rogers head, who shifts slightly to kiss Brians open palm. 

"You'll fuck me another day."

Brian hides his grin against Rogers skin. "I should be completely off my medication in three weeks."

"It's a date." Roger chuckles and Brian realizes he is indeed the luckiest man alive. 

~~~

Brian is woken up by the early morning light beaming through the window they never bothered to cover with the curtain. 

For the first time in weeks, Brian finds himself with his arms around his beloved, instead of curled up tight on his own side of the bed. Today he has two armfuls of Roger, spooning him from behind. Roger is still snoring in his elbow, hiding his face from Brians view. 

Brian still kisses his bare shoulder lovingly. Relishing in the Omegas pure scent as it soaks in the blankets pooling by their wast.

His long fingers dance over the skin of Rogers shoulder blade. Tracing the bones jittering out.

Roger lets out a sigh that disrupts his breathing pattern. 

In his sleep he scoots closer to Brian and reaches for the arm draped over him. Snuffling when Brian trails his thumb over Rogers wrist. 

He could watch the blond all day. Tuck his hair back behind his ear and touch every patch of skin to see him squirm and cause sudden eruptions of goosebumps— But no.

Today Brian has something different in mind. 

Instead of kissing Roger awake or shaking his shoulder, Brian finds himself wriggling out of Rogers embrace and tucking him under the blanket neatly to keep him from missing the warmth.

Brian is momentarily afraid Roger might rouse when he rolls over to Brians spot and mumbles something incoherent into the pillow.

"Shh." He strokes Rogers hair back with lithe fingers. Not quite petting him, but nearly.

"Just sleep okay?"

"Ufhuum." Roger snores back. Which Brian decides to take as a _yes_.

Next thing he does is turn off the alarm clock on the night stand. Kiss Rogers parted lips briefly. Write a handwritten note next to his bedside, explaining he was going to sleep in today, while Brian takes the children out for a while. 

He closes the door behind himself with a quiet click, leaving Roger snoring soundly in their bedroom, while Brian strolls down the hallway to take the baby out of his crib and feed him with pre-pumped milk from the fridge, before starting breakfast for the rest of the clan and Freddie. 

~~~

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" Brian looks away from the stroller he is pushing to instead glance down at a very excited Johanna. 

"Are you feeling better now?" 

Next to Brian, Freddie 'awwwes' with his hand on his heart— the hand he isn't using to steer Mae into the right direction and keeping her from wondering off. 

Before Brian can open his mouth to reply, all the kids grow uncharacteristically quiet to hear his reply.

"I'm doing a lot better, yes." Brian promises, before leaning in to press a clumsy kiss to her forehead. Not saying he is feeling like his old self quite yet, but admittedly feeling stable enough to tale the kids to the park with Freddie's support. "Are you excited to go to the football field? It's early, nobody else should be there."

_Early_ is an understatement. It's almost 8 am according to his watch, but the kids are up and buzzing to celebrate the weekend at their local park.

Except for Zae and George. Who are dozing in their strollers.

Atlas is pushing the stroller with a sleepy George in it. Carefully avoiding eye contact with Brian since the other night when he caught his parents fighting and confronted Roger about seeing Brian with another Omega.

When the park comes into sight, Mae drags Freddie along to run towards the net goals standing in an open grass field. 

The other kids follow immediately. Racing each other for a sprint to determine who gets to pick the teams.

The park is mostly empty, aside from a stray dog owner or an early morning jogger passing the path. The grass before him is damp form the rain, but not muddy. They're surrounded by trees and a lake runs at the left sude of the park, where in the summers the kids like to camp out and pretend it's a little beach.

Brian finds himself sitting down on a bench overlooking the football field.

He is completely drained off of his energy, despite only having walked for less than 10 minutes. 

The two strollers are parked beside him. The kids' heavy breathing assures him they're doing just fine, tucked warm under their blankets and wearing their woolen socks against the sharp morning breeze. 

He watches Freddie taking it upon himself ro divide the clan into teams. Only slightly worried that they have an uneven number of players, causing distressed though inaudible complaints from a justice lustered Johanna. 

Freddie is swarmed by an army of kids, pulling on his jeans and begging for a solution.

Brian would have sat back and laughed if today wasn't a day for redemption and apology.

"Atlas! Come over buddy!" 

Brian had cupped his hands over his lips to make his voice carry all the way over the football field. 

As soon as he hears his name, Atlas twists on his heel to look at Brian— who beckons him closer with a wave and a friendly smile that hopefully doesn't come off as desperate as he feels. 

If Brians eyes don't betray him, he can see Atlas groaning and huffing it having to step out of the game. 

As soon as he staggers off the field, Freddie successfully makes up the teams and throws the ball into the air without looking so that the kids can squabble over it fairly. They giggle and run, nearly tripping over one another to gain access to the ball that's shot dangerously close to the direction of the lake. 

Brian draws his eyes away from the potential train wreck. Remembering he had packed an extra ball for this exact reason. 

Atlas comes to a stop a few feet away from him, looking rather pink in the face. 

He is almost nine years old. Concepts such as shame and deep rooted embarrassment have started to play significant roles in the kids' life. 

"Hey bud." Brian smiles more sincere now, patting the spot on the bench next to him, earning a "Hi." in return and Atlas taking place a few feet away from him. Feet dangling off the bench and swaying with nerves.

It's undeniably awkward— but Brians feelings should not be spared for his son to move on from the fight. 

Brian sighs, shifting until he has an arm draped over Atlas' tense back and he can face his sulking son while he speaks in a low hushed tone.

"I know what happened the other day was... weird. You should not have been involved in the first place, plus, none of this is your problem or your fault." The older Alpha starts, causing Atlas to glance at him from the corner of his eye. "But I still wanted to let you know that I have never cheated on your father. I would never do so either. That woman you saw me with is just a friend I play music with, but nothing more."

Brian watches the words sink in on Atlas. Noting his brow furrowing and his nose twitching at the newfound formation. He looks a lot like Roger in that moment.

He sits back against the back of the bench with a hum, before also fully turning his body to face Brian. 

"Okay." He says in a light compliant tone. 

Brian let's out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding, shoulders deflating as well.

"But!" Atlas all but yells with his little finger in the air. "Don't hurt Pap anymore, please?" 

His heart leaps in his chest, Brian can't help but wrap his arms around Atlas and pull him in for a heavy, well deserved hug.

"I won't." 

The little Alpha sighs in relief as well, his face mashed against Brians chest."I love you dad."

The sincerity in his voice makes Brian smile. He rubs Atlas' back warmly while swaying him in his arms, lips pressed against his temple, while he watches the other kids over his shoulder tackling Freddie to the floor when the older man had tried to cheat and run off with the ball in his arms. Now getting attacked by three children tickling him until he is screeching.

Brian shakes his head, smiling.

"I love you too, kid."

~~~

"I don't think I'm ready." 

Freddie groans miserably when his and Jims once shared house comes into view and Brian parks by the driveway, where Jims car is also parked.

Brian puts on the breaks and turns the gas off, before turning to the Alpha beside him with a frown. 

"Come on Fred. Eight years of love. It takes one good apology."

Freddie has sunken deep into his carseat with a mournful grimace splayed over his sweaty face. Brian had never seen him this nervous before. Not for Hyde park or for Rio. 

"Hey." He lays a hand on Freddie's jittering knee. "Go in there and be sincere."

"I fucked up big time. I have so much to apologize for," Freddie nibbles on his bottom lip, piercing it between his front teeth. "He'll be tired of me before I finish listing half my shortcomings."

"Just try uncle Freddie!" Mercury cries out from the backseat. 

Atlas nods beside him, glancing at Freddie through the rearview mirror. 

"I miss uncle Jim." 

"And I miss uncle John and auntie Ronnie."

"Me too!" 

Freddie groans— now with his face behind his sweaty hands. Finding himself bombarded with emotions he hadn't wanted to acknowledge before. 

Sobering up for two complete days has left a lot of time and space for regret to come flooding in. 

He had messed up big time with Jim. His dependency on drugs and alcohol to get through the day and parties. His dependency on Paul and reliance on said parties to mimic the sensational rush similar to crowds cheering upon him. Which he had stupidly gotten addicted to. He had messed up by not telling Jim about his need for the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Lying about his drug use or whereabouts. It was only a matter of time before the other Alpha would grow tired of him and his antics. 

"Enough of the self pitying."

Brian reaches over to Freddie's side of the car and forces the car door open, before nudging Freddie out as well.

"Wait!" The singer cries out as he scrambles to his feet, crawling back to reach his arms out into the car. "Please let me take the baby inside as well. It'll make me look more sympathetic."

George is seated in his car seat between Mercury and Johanna. Dozing while lazily suckling on his pacifier. 

Brian smiles at the idea, but he waves the other Alphas hands away from his child. 

"George needs to nurse soon and you have to show Jim how much _you_ want him back. Don't use your weird antics here, remember, _sincerity_." 

Freddie is one breath away from a melt down Brian doesn't want to witness. 

He pulls the car door closed and waves a disgruntled Freddie towards the door— he staggers, eyes mortified and wide as his feet drag over the pebbled path. 

He cannot hear the kids cheering him on from inside the car. 

Brian watches as Freddie's finger hesitates on the bell above the doorpost. Taking two, three, four deep breaths before deciding, _fuck it_ , and ring the buzzer with his index finger.

The kids cheer even harder when less than five seconds later, a pajama clad Jim opens the door wide.

His initial reaction is surprise. Followed by discontent and finishing up with relief.

They can't make out any of the words that are being said. Freddie is doing most of the talking and his back is turned to the car, but Jims stern facial expressions give away enough to tell that it is not going miserable per se. 

Maybe a whole minute later, Freddie is invited stiffly into the house. 

Just as Jim is about to close the door behind the singer, he catches Brians eye in the car and unexpectedly gives him a warm smile and a mouthed ' _thank you_.'

Brian and the kids wave back at him, before he hits the gas paddle once more.

Positive this story will have a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading sweethearts! Please do leave me a comment if you liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please leave a comment if you liked it! Tomorrow part two of this oneshot.


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